Mistletoe
by made.of.bees
Summary: After Buck grabbed the mistletoe and kissed Hen, he decided he wouldn't stop there. After making the rounds, he reaches Eddie, and nothing is ever so easy with that man.
1. Mistletoe

Buck was adamant about the fact that he hadn't planned it. He'd been standing by Hen, caught up in the holiday, and when he'd seen the mistletoe, well. He thought it'd make her happy, and she needed more of that in her life, more silliness and moments to forget everything she'd been through. And he was right, he'd gotten a smile, and that was going to be the end of it, mission accomplished.

Then he thought about the mischief, the chaos he could cause, and that was too good an opportunity to pass up. He'd been working so hard on being responsible and following orders and earning his place back, but hell with all that, it was Christmas, and he could capitalize on all the holiday spirit goodwill floating around the 118.

His next mark was Bobby, who he was still worried about. He guessed he understood a little better now why Bobby'd been so reluctant to sign off on bringing him back, now that Buck was the one perpetually keeping an eye on his boss, making sure he didn't start bleeding again or get dizzy or pass out or suddenly drop dead out of nowhere, he'd done his research, he knew how bad radiation poisoning was, and it was really hard to keep an eye on whether or not his hair was falling out when he wore a helmet so much of the time.

So he'd snuck up behind Bobby, wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and planted a big one on his cheek. "For good luck," he'd said, and Bobby had smiled and rolled his eyes and shrugged him off, and that was good enough.

He'd caught Maddie and Chim at the top of the staircase and decided it'd be more fun to make them kiss, so he'd waved the mistletoe over their heads and endured the _grow up, Buck_ and _you have to be kidding me, Buck_ until they'd kissed, and one quick kiss had turned into something longer, so he'd left them to it with only a brief, "Get a room!" as he departed.

Athena was with her kids, and Buck was still kind of scared of her, so he'd decided she maybe didn't need a kiss from him.

Christopher, on the other hand, was with his grandmother, and that was perfect. Buck practically skipped over to the two of them, gave Isabel a quick peck on the cheek before attacking Chris, smothering his face with big sloppy kisses that made the kid laugh and protest equally, only stopping when he accidentally took a crutch to the shin.

"I turn my back for one second and come back to find you attacking my kid. Maybe I should rethink letting you babysit, if this is how you're going to treat him."

Buck stood up, blushing slightly, because he still wasn't used to having Christopher in his life, and not at all for any other reason. He held up the mistletoe as a peace offering.

"It's not my fault, I don't make the rules," he said, aiming for confidence and tough guy and noticeably falling short. It was always like that with Eddie, that somehow just looking at the man stripped him down to bare his soul, even in a room full of people. "Ask around, I'm giving out kisses like candy on Halloween."

Eddie raised an eyebrow, and Buck held his gaze. There was a challenge there, and he wasn't sure of the rules, but he was damn well going to win.

"Oh, yeah? And how's that working out for you?"

"I hit him with my crutch," Christopher supplied, and that diffused some of the tension.

"Sounds about right," Eddie said, now smiling, crossed arms falling to his side. "D'you think you could hit him again if he tries to get near me with that thing?"

Buck finally looked away from Eddie, but Christopher had his scheming face on, and that didn't bode well for anyone.

"Nope," he said, and that was that.

"Guess I'll have to defend myself, then," Eddie said, something in his voice Buck didn't know, maybe more of whatever challenge he'd started, maybe something else. It wasn't the first time he'd sounded like that, but it was the only time when neither of them had been on the edge of a breakdown, crying or screaming at each other, and it made Buck nervous.

"Guess you will," he replied, closed the distance between them with one awkwardly-long step, and kissed him. On the lips, one hand on his waist, mistletoe forgotten. It was the rush from when they'd pulled him out from under the firetruck, the wave of relief seeing Christopher after they'd been separated during the tsunami, and a little of the giddiness he'd felt when he'd read the comments on the livestream when they'd saved that beauty blogger. He leaned in, not thinking about where he was or what the consequences might be, hand tightening on Eddie's hip, and it occurred to him that Eddie hadn't pushed him away, but he also hadn't responded, and maybe Buck should stop, now, before things couldn't be undone.

Then, for a split second, almost so quickly he thought he'd imagined it, Eddie had kissed him back, lips soft and pliant and wanting, Buck was nearly sure, before pulling back.

"Not here," Eddie breathed, quiet so no one would hear.

Buck took a step back, nearly tripping over his own feet, positive he was as red as the engines downstairs, all bravado gone, not even sure what words were anymore.

"Uh, yeah, um, later?" It was supposed to be a statement, some sort of reassurance that this was the beginning of something and not the end, but instead it was a question, a pathetic and needy question, and why was it that Eddie always brought that out in him, it was so unfair, he stole his confidence when he needed it the most, and that was just rude.

Eddie's expression was inscrutable and Buck was trapped in uncertainty, in guilt and regret, because there'd he'd gone and ruined the best friendship he'd ever had, all because he still, after all this time, he _still_ couldn't keep it in his goddamn pants.

"Or, y'know, not," Buck added, and fuck he sounded wrecked, and of course he was but Eddie didn't need to know that. Let alone the entire 118 who was probably looking on because why, _why_ had he decided now was the right time for this, here, in front of everyone, in front of _Christopher_, Jesus Christ he was a mess, and this, along with everything else, was his entirely his fault.

Eddie knocked his hand against his, the one holding the mistletoe, and it fell from his fingers as his grip loosened in shock, eyes wide, lost and confused and maybe, just maybe, a little hopeful.

"Soon," Eddie said, still almost a whisper, almost lost amongst the loud conversation all around them, but Buck heard him just fine. And maybe he was an open book, at least when it came to Eddie, because Eddie gave him a small smile, different from all the other smiles he'd tossed his way since they'd met, and Buck's stomach did something funny he chose to ignore. "Promise," Eddie added, and then Buck broke into a stupid grin he couldn't control, and said,

"Yeah, okay, soon, cool," which was absolutely coherent, and then he slipped while reaching for the dropped mistletoe, grabbing the closest chair and bringing that down with him too, the crash momentarily silencing the party as everyone looked to see what happened.

"I'm fine!" Buck shouted, trying to stand up but finding his legs were tangled with the chair's legs, and how did that even _happen_, god. "Just, ah. Tripped a little."

He could _hear_ the knowing looks being traded around him, and he was still fire engine red, and this little stunt would probably win him the Least Subtle Award, but he thought it also might win him Eddie, and that was enough, was all that mattered.

_Soon_, Eddie had said, and that made everything else worth it.

Until Christopher announced, "They finally kissed," and there were a few cheers and whistles, and then all Buck wanted was to melt into the floor and disappear forever.

Or at least until whenever _soon_ was. He'd come back for that.


	2. Almost

As soon as Buck untangled himself from the chair and was back on his feet, Maddie appeared at his side, iron grip on his arm, and whispered, "We need to talk."

He was almost grateful for a reason to excuse himself from the Diaz family, all of whom were looking at him with different but disquieting expressions, only the last time Maddie had manhandled him like this was when she'd caught him making out with her boyfriend back when they were kids, and it didn't bode well. He was dragged all the way down the stairs and into the turnout room, which only made him more nervous.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded once the door was closed, leveling him with her best Big Sister Look.

"I, ah, right now, trying to escape with my life?" he asked, trying a joke as a peace offering. She hit him in the arm, and he yelped. "Blood thinners!" he exclaimed. "You keep punching me, I'm gonna spend the rest of Christmas in the ER."

"You're an idiot," Maddie stated, and Buck was inclined to agree, but also knew when to keep his mouth shut. Sometimes. "First, I barely touched you, so stop acting like you're dying, it's not cute. Second, and I believe I've already said this, but _what do you think you're doing_?"

Buck narrowed his eyes, rubbing his arm but not refuting her point. The thing was, he didn't know what he was doing, but he did know that he _had_ to know, that it was more than just him and Eddie, whatever they ended up being. There was Christopher, and Buck would die for him before hurting him, and he didn't know enough about kids to know how to mitigate any potential damage. Then there was the 118, and Buck had already fucked that up nearly beyond repair once, was barely back in their good graces, and if things didn't go well and he and Eddie blew up, it'd affect the whole house, and it'd be his fault.

He knew these things, and yet he'd still kissed him, spur of the moment, damn the consequences.

Maddie's expression softened, and she squeezed his shoulder. "It doesn't have to be a disaster," she said gently, and that was damnation by faint praise if he'd ever heard it. "I'm just saying, you need to have a plan."

Buck sighed. "Yeah. I know. I don't have one, but I know I should."

"You don't have to figure it all out now, that's something you and Eddie need to talk about together, but _I_ need to know that you know this is serious. There's no messing around or halfway, not with him. He has a kid, Buck. His wife just died."

"I know!" he exclaimed, and ran a hand through his hair. "God, I do, I really do, that's why I hadn't said anything or done anything, why I'd pushed everything back so I wouldn't fuck it up, and I didn't mean to, it wasn't supposed to go like that, right now, it just…It happened, and he said _later_, _soon_, and now you're yelling at me."

"I'm not yelling, I'm helping," Maddie said, and Buck rolled his eyes, because that's what she always said. She was usually right, which just made it worse. "I know you can have good, responsible, adult relationships, and you have so much more to offer than you think you do, but you need to get your shit together. Starting something by kissing him in front of his kid, in front of the entire station and their families? That's not having your shit together."

"Okay, yeah, I just said that, I know, thanks." He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "So, uh. Now what?"

Maddie smiled brightly, like they hadn't been fighting at all, and wasn't that always the way. "Now you put on your big boy pants and go have The Talk. And make it a good one, you two are perfect for each other."

Buck stared at her. "After all that, you're _encouraging_ me?"

She laughed. "Of course I am. God, you really are an idiot, aren't you?" She petted his face, which he hated and knew she knew he hated, and left, calling out, "Love you!" just before the door closed behind her.

"Thanks," he said to the empty room. "That was really helpful."

—

Eventually, after trying so hard to do as Maddie said and get his shit together and not coming anywhere close, Buck rejoined the party. He didn't exactly make an effort to keep his distance from Eddie, but he also wasn't cozying up to him the way he usually did. It was kind of funny, that it took fucking up like this to realize how he was usually glued to Eddie's side, but apparently he was, and he didn't love the change. He didn't know what to do with himself, and everyone kept giving him _looks_, and then he had to make sure he didn't sit next to Eddie at dinner, which was difficult because Christopher kept dragging him over so he'd ended up next to him, and somehow, _again_, he and Eddie were under the mistletoe together for the group picture, and he'd practically sprinted away from him the second after the camera flashed.

In all honesty, he wanted to leave, and almost did before remembering he was working, that this was his shift and he couldn't walk out. So instead he decided this was a good time to make sure the engine shined, and that was how Eddie found him, polishing the firetruck.

"Hey," Eddie said, and Buck jumped, actually jumped, and wasn't he trained to stay calm in unexpected situations, which definitely did _not_ include his friend saying hi.

"Aaeuh," Buck stated, and picked up the rag he'd dropped, because apparently he didn't have use of his hands when Eddie was around. Or his words, because what was that, _aaeuh_? That wasn't even a word, that was barely a sound. He cleared his throat. "Uh, hi."

Eddie laughed. "You're a mess, aren't you? I know you like to strut around like you're the big man in charge, always keeps his cool, some sort of smooth dog who always gets all the girls, but nah. You're still twelve, kissing and running like it's recess."

That was a lot to process, and Buck wasn't at his best. "You said later," he said, and that was a little better, at least that was a coherent sentence. "So I was, y'know, giving you space."

Eddie laughed again, like Buck was the funniest thing he'd ever seen, and Buck wasn't sure how to take it. Eddie didn't laugh a lot, it was great to see him in such good spirits, but it was at his expense, wasn't it? And hadn't he said later, or soon, or one of those? So hadn't Buck been doing the right thing? It was all so unfair.

"Buck, I meant that I didn't want to sit down and have a discussion about us in the middle of the office Christmas party. I didn't mean you needed to run away and do chores like you'd done something wrong."

Buck still felt he was a few steps behind in this conversation, and he didn't like it, and didn't know how to fix it. "You didn't?" That wasn't great. "I mean, I didn't? Do something wrong?" That wasn't any better, but too late now.

No wonder Maddie kept calling him an idiot.

"No," Eddie said softly, and he was smiling in a way that made it hard to think, and Buck kinda liked it, though he wasn't about to admit it. "You're my best friend, you never have to run from me. I feel like we've had this talk a lot lately; what's it gonna take for you to figure out I'm not going anywhere?"

"Uh, well." Buck's heart was slamming, and he vaguely wondered if blood thinners made it dangerous to have an elevated heart rate, but that didn't seem terribly important at the moment. "You could, I dunno, kiss me back?" Dumb, that was so dumb, why couldn't he use his words, he was an adult for fuck's sake. Or he was still twelve, that seemed to track a little better.

"That's an easy one," Eddie said, and then his lips were on Buck's, and Buck let out a startled, not-at-all-embarrassing gasp, which Eddie seemed to take as encouragement, because he was biting Buck's lip, gently but insistently, and then his tongue was in his mouth, and then the back of Buck's head was aching because he'd fallen—_again_—just a little bit, and hit it on the truck.

"Ow," Buck said cleverly, rubbing the back of his head. "Um, though, that was. Great." It was, but he couldn't find the words, and maybe he had a concussion or something, or maybe he was just _really fucking dumb_, but it didn't seem to matter. Eddie was looking at him like he was an absolute idiot but also affectionately, like he liked that Buck was being an idiot, and that was even better than great, because apparently he didn't know how to be anything but.

"Yeah, I thought so, too." Eddie kissed him again, a quick peck that Buck leaned into for more, and was a little annoyed when he didn't get it. "So I guess soon is now, huh?"

"I mean. If you want it to be. We could—we could wait."

"You sure about that?" Eddie asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because it seems to me that you stopped functioning right around the time you got out that mistletoe, and I get the feeling you're not going to get yourself back together until we talk."

Buck was getting more and more worried about the blood thinners, because maybe he was dying, he could barely breathe, and his brain was clearly not functional. "I could, uh, get myself together." Which was brilliant, because he obviously could not. He laughed a little, and thankfully Eddie joined in, and maybe it was okay. "Or we could talk now," he allowed. "That might be better."

"Yeah, I think so."


	3. Not Quite

Buck opened his mouth to say something, no idea what but something, and was saved by Athena's voice echoing down to them.

"We're having a debate up here," she said, and Buck craned up to see her leaning over the railing. "Was that a one-time make out session fueled by holidays and stupidity, or are you two finally together?"

Buck groaned, and Eddie laughed.

"That's what we're figuring out," Eddie called back. "Or at least trying to, before you interrupted."

"It's just that there's a lot of money on the line here," Athena said and god, the entire house could hear, and Buck was back to wanting to melt into the floor. "And in about six hours, I'm gonna go from making a handsome sum to owing one."

"This isn't about you!" Buck yelled, though he couldn't bring himself to look up at her and make eye contact. "This is important, and we're not gonna rush, or—"

"So there is something to rush?" Athena interrupted, gloating already. "I'd say that means that everyone here owes me at least a grand."

"A grand?" Buck sputtered, momentarily distracted. "How invested _are_ you guys?"

"You don't want to know," Chim added, and once again Buck's face matched the firetruck next to him.

"If you stopped interrupting," Eddie said smoothly, and how was this so easy for him, Buck hated him for it, except he didn't, that was the whole point, "you might—"

And then the klaxon sounded, and the point was moot. Buck had never been more grateful or more pissed off for a call before, and he was already halfway into his turnout gear when Bobby swept through the room, announcing,

"High-rise apartment fire downtown, let's go."

—

They were halfway there before the relationship, or lack thereof, came up again. Buck didn't know what happened; one minute they'd been wagering bets (again, maybe the 118 had a problem with that) about how many extension cords and power strips were plugged into a single outlet, because it was Christmas and odds were this was an electrical fire out of control, and the next some floater Buck barely knew wanted to know just how far they'd gotten before they'd needed to redress for the call.

"Hey," Eddie said, and the authority in his voice was wonderful and something Buck didn't know he needed in his life until just now. "Not cool, man."

The floater, Buck thought his name might be Watson, held up his hands. "Sorry, man. But you should know, there's no such thing as private in the LAFD."

Like Buck didn't know, like _Eddie_ didn't know, like that wasn't the whole point of the conversation people kept having on their behalf. They exchanged a look, and Buck thought Eddie might be about to come to their defense again, when Bobby shouted back from the driver's seat.

"Sounds like we've got someone trapped on the nineteenth floor. Wheelchair, can't walk down and can't use the elevator. Buck, Eddie, I want you on it as soon as we pull up. Ladder up as far as you can, walk 'em down."

"Got it," Buck said, and thank god he did. Firefighting he could do. Firefighting was easy compared to the absolute mess with Eddie that seemed to be getting worse every second.

_He did kiss me_, Buck reminded himself, and that was the last thought he allowed himself before shutting that part of his brain off.

They pulled up a few moments later, and Buck was out of the truck and evaluating the situation, mind blissfully filled with nothing but firefighting.

"Looks like the main fire's on the fifteenth floor," Eddie said. "We can get the ladder up to sixteen, maybe seventeen, hoof it the rest of the way, and carry them back down 'til we meet back up with the ladder."

"Sounds good." He turned to Watson. "You copy? Get that ladder up."

"On it."

The ladder only reached to fifteen, of course. Buck was half convinced it was Watson's ineptitude but if he really didn't know how to do the job he wouldn't be here, and Buck was probably just bitter. He trailed Eddie up, the ladder bouncing satisfyingly with each step, stood back while Eddie smashed the window open, and climbed in after him.

"Buck, Eddie, copy?"

Buck fiddled with his radio as he surveyed the room. Living room, nicely furnished, a little smoky but not obviously burning. "Here, Cap."

"The fire's mostly on the south side of the building. Take the west stairs and you should be good."

"Copy."

Eddie broke down the hallway door, and yeah, Buck could see flames down to the left, but they weren't too close, didn't seem to be moving towards them.

"Stairs," Eddie said, nodding across and over. The elevator buttons were flashing, indicating that it had been brought to a forced stop, and next to it an open doorway leading to a staircase. "C'mon, I don't want our way to get blocked or the floor to fall out when we get back."

Buck raised his eyebrows as he followed his partner, taking the steps two at a time. "Awfully pessimistic there. You see something I didn't?"

Eddie let out a frustrated huff. "Guys like Watson, they—there's a line between friendly teasing and being an ass, and he was on the wrong side."

Buck grinned, because he liked Eddie defending them, getting upset over something that didn't really matter. "Yeah, well. At least everyone else seemed cool with it." Ice flooded through him as he remembered the one person who mattered the most, and how he had no idea what he thought. "Do you think, uh, Christopher—"

"Later," Eddie said again, sharply, and it hit Buck like a punch to the gut because of course everyone else was irrelevant, and if Eddie didn't want to talk about it then it couldn't be a good thing, and maybe they weren't going anywhere after all.

"Eddie, I—"

"Hello? Is someone there?"

Eddie and Buck exchanged a look, Buck yelled, "We're coming!", and sprinted the last flight and a half up. A young woman sat in a wheelchair next to the elevator, thankfully looking no worse for wear, though she was struggling with a backpack that seemed to be moving on its own.

"Hi," she said. "I'm sorry. The elevator won't…"

"Yeah, no, we shut those off to avoid risk of the fire traveling," Buck said. "What's, uh—going on with your backpack?"

She smiled, a little guiltily. "My cat. Lily. I couldn't get to her carrier, and of course I couldn't leave her behind, so…I'm Sam, by the way."

"I'm Eddie, and this is Buck, and we're going to get you out of here," Eddie said. "We have a ladder a few floors down, so I'm gonna take you, and Buck is gonna take your cat, and we'll be down in no time."

Sam's eyes widened. "No, what about my chair?"

Buck gave it a quick look. "Afraid we're gonna have to leave it behind."

"No way. Do you have any idea how much a motorized wheelchair costs? And it's not like insurance covers it, and if it doesn't come down with me then I'm going to be on the hook for four grand I don't have, and I'll be stuck in bed for the rest of my life. Unless it would literally kill us, it's gotta come."

Buck and Eddie exchanged a look, and Buck shrugged. "If we each take a side, I think we can manage."

Eddie thumbed his radio. "How's containment going? Looks like we're gonna be taking the stairs the whole way down."

Static, and then Bobby's voice: "You're good. Be alert, keep an eye out, but you're good."

"Copy." He turned off his radio, and looked at Buck. "Ready?"

"Let's do it."

Even splitting the weight with Eddie, the chair and the passenger and her cat—barely restrained, Buck kept eyeing the backpack like it was going to explode, and then he'd be forced to chase down a cat in a burning building which was not his favorite part of the job—was heavy and awkward, and conversation stopped as they maneuvered their way down.

"I'm sorry," Sam said after a few flights. "This building is supposed to be accessible, but apparently letting disabled people burn counts as accessible."

"Don't worry about it," Eddie huffed, and damn, hearing him breathless was doing all kinds of things to Buck that shouldn't be happening at work, or possibly ever, he still didn't know. "It's part of the job. Just glad you're okay."

"Yeah, but you must have better things to do on Christmas than lug me down a million stairs," Sam said. "Parties, presents, girlfriends, boyfriends. Cats, of course."

Buck laughed, a little short of breath. "It's, ah. Complicated."

"Ooh, complicated?" Sam craned her neck to get a good look at Buck, which he tried to ignore but all his focus was on not tripping and he didn't have a choice. "It's a long way down, I could use some gossip."

"Oh boy," Eddie sighed, and somehow that made Buck laugh again, probably out of nerves.

"Oh shit, is it you two?" Sam asked. "Are you guys together?"

"That's the question of the day," Buck said, and how, how could this be happening, again, here, constantly, and why couldn't he get two seconds alone with Eddie to figure this damn thing out.

"It's complicated," Eddie echoed, and Buck's insides were twisting, and it was already hard to breathe from exertion, he didn't need this.

"Sorry," Sam said, but she didn't sound sorry, and Buck decided he hated everyone, every single person in LA. "You guys can talk, if you want. Just pretend I'm not here."

"Fifteen's next," Eddie stated, and Buck did notice that it was getting warmer, but that could've been his embarrassment. "Keep an eye out."

"Yup."

They passed fifteen, and yeah, the light was a little yellow and flickery, but it didn't seem to be advancing, and a weight lifted off Buck's shoulders. There were still dangers, of course, but they'd left the worst of it behind, and the rest was just heavy lifting.

"For what it's worth," Sam said, breaking the silence a few floors down, "I think you'd be cute. The world needs more gay firefighters. Representing us queers."

"You're gay?" Buck asked, because talking about anything that wasn't himself was better.

"Queer," Sam corrected. "I don't like labels, queer is as open ended as it gets. I do have a girlfriend, but she's in Brazil visiting family. I, ah. Should probably tell her about this, but she'll just freak out and try to come home early, and so I'm waiting until I can take a selfie on solid ground to prove I'm alive and safe."

"Guess you're not the only one who keeps things to himself, huh, Buck?" Eddie asked, and where had _that_ come from?

"Uh." He stayed quiet as they rounded the next corner, trying to figure out what was happening. "I don't—what?"

"I'm just saying." Eddie grunted slightly, and Buck realized he'd been slacking on his side, that the conversation distracted him from holding up the chair, and that this was _really not the time_. "You're my best friend. You could've said something."

"I was, uh, going to?" Buck tried. He hadn't been aware that they even needed to talk about this aspect, Eddie had been so cool and in charge back at the station, and it was telling people, telling _Christopher_, and defining whatever it was that needed to be talked about, not this. "I mean. You could've, too. If you have something to say, which I still don't really know, not really."

"Fuck, Buck." Eddie cleared his throat. "Sorry, ma'am. This is wildly unprofessional, I didn't—"

"Are you kidding me?" Sam interrupted. "This is better than Grey's Anatomy. Please, please keep going."

"Previously on Buck's Anatomy," Eddie said, and it was supposed to be a joke, but Buck nearly tripped over the accidental innuendo, and it was finally, finally time for Eddie to be the one to blush, Buck could see it even under the shadow his helmet cast over his face.

"I kissed him," Buck said, because apparently they were doing this, here, now, like the idiots they were. "And he keeps blowing me off."

"Okay, no, that is not what happened," Eddie snapped. "He did kiss me, in the middle of the Christmas party, in front of all our colleagues and my _son_, and so I suggested we should wait to talk about it, but he took that to mean I never wanted to see him again, which is just stupid. So I followed him, after he stormed out because he was pissy I didn't want to lay out all my feelings in a public forum—"

"I did not _storm out_," Buck interrupted, getting annoyed, distracted from the matter at hand. "I had dinner, took pictures, and then gave you space, like you said you wanted."

"That's not what I said at all," Eddie countered. "So anyway, I followed him, and tried to talk some sense into the man, I even kissed him, again, which he seems to have forgotten—"

"Not forgotten," Buck said, interrupting again, because he didn't like at all how Eddie was framing this, it made him seem like a child and he wasn't, he wasn't twelve anymore, and he _did_ know how to have relationships. "Was confused by, sure, because somebody couldn't use their words, but I didn't forget."

"Then," Eddie said, continuing on like Buck hadn't spoken, "our lovely colleagues decided we needed their input, and then the call came in, and I was trying to be responsible and do my job, but apparently that's not an option."

"That's not what happened," Buck stated, though he was having trouble finding better words for the situation. Nobody spoke for a few moments, and then Eddie asked,

"So what did?"

Buck cleared his throat, glancing at the number on the wall telling him what floor they were on, that they had nine more to go before he was out of this hell. "There was this mistletoe, see, and—"

And then there was a great rumbling from above them, and the world came crashing down.


	4. Getting There

Buck's heart was slamming in his ears and it made it hard for him to tell what was happening, what the damage was, and if Eddie was okay. And Sam, because he was here helping her, and Eddie had gear and was trained and probably fine, unless he'd been brained by falling debris and was lying next to him, dead.

"Buck? You okay?"

Buck huffed, starting to stabilize a little. Eddie was alive, talking, okay. "Yeah, I think so." He did a quick scan of his body, and amended his diagnosis slightly, "Head hurts a little. You?"

"Banged up but fine." He coughed, dust everywhere. "Sam, everything good?"

There was silence for a moment, and then, "Shit."

"What, what's happening?" Buck shook himself, waving a hand to clear the dust, reorienting himself. They'd been on a landing when part of the upper staircase collapsed, and that was good, nobody had fallen. Eddie was bent forward, leaning his hands on his thighs, looking at Sam. She didn't obviously seem injured, and that made Buck all the more nervous. "What hurts?"

"I dislocated my shoulder," Sam said, sounding more annoyed than anything else. "It's fine, I can put it back in, just let me—"

"No, wait don't—"

"Paramedics are downstairs, you have to—"

Buck and Eddie's simultaneous protests did nothing as Sam swung her arm around. Buck stared, jaw dropped, as her shoulder let out an alarming crack, followed by a sigh of relief.

"That's better." She took in Buck's expression, and Eddie's, who looked just as alarmed, and laughed a little. "I'm hypermobile. It happens. I'm good."

"That was—"

"Insane?" Buck offered. "They'll get you painkillers on the ground, but…"

"Oh no, I'm fine." Sam unzipped her backpack, and a white paw immediate emerged, waving around. "Lily's good," she said, gently pushing the paw back in and zipping it back up. "We're all good. That was terrifying, though, can we go now?"

Buck, who didn't quite feel like any of this was real, replied somewhat dreamily, "Yeah, sure. Eddie, you good to go?"

"The sooner the better."

Five steps, Buck counted, there were five steps of peace before Sam spoke up.

"You said there was mistletoe?"

The low ache in the back of his head from the collapse immediately got worse, and Buck let out a quiet groan. "Yeah, there was, but is this really the time?"

"Well I'm pretty sure we all almost died," Sam pointed out, even though Buck was quite certain that wasn't the case. "So yeah, I think so."

Eddie stayed silent, and Buck didn't know what that meant, if he was giving him a chance to tell his side of the story or if he was so angry with Buck for the whole thing that he didn't want to talk to him ever again, or maybe that he was more injured than he'd let on and was quietly dying without letting anyone know.

"I did something dumb and impulsive," Buck said eventually, going with brutal honesty, because he was sick of this and needed answers. "And I might've lost my best friend. That's what happened, that's what matters about what happened."

"Was it impulsive?" Eddie asked quietly, and Buck's heart twisted at the pain he heard, and maybe he was starting to understand. "Was it dumb, Buck, or did you mean it?"

"I meant it," Buck said immediately, almost tripping over his words. "God, Eddie, I've meant it since forever. It was stupid, I shouldn't have done it then or like that, and yeah, you're right, I should've said something first, in private, and I fucked up, but I have never meant anything more than I meant that kiss."

Sam squeaked, quickly covering her mouth. "Sorry, sorry, that was just so cute, sorry, continue."

Buck wanted to roll his eyes but he was too busy worrying about what Eddie was going to say because this was it, this is what they'd been building towards all day—all year, really, since Buck had first seen him shirtless in the 118 and hadn't realized that his jealousy was wildly misplaced.

"Buck," Eddie said softly, his name on a sigh, and Buck's heart clenched again. "Buck, I—"

"Whoa," Buck interrupted, hating himself, but the sound came out of nowhere, along with how the stairwell was swimming, and his ears were ringing, and he couldn't find the next step. "Wait a sec." He was pretty sure he'd said those words, but he couldn't really hear anymore, and his vision was going grey. "Down, put—put her…"

Buck felt himself falling, noticed how the ground was a lot closer than it'd been a second ago, and then nothing.

—

"Buck. _Buck_. Evan Buckley, you wake up this second."

Buck groaned. He'd been dreaming, but it was slipping through his fingers faster than he could hold onto it. Something about a beach, basking in the sun, Eddie by his side… He wasn't sure what was happening now, he was bouncing, which made absolutely no sense, and everything was fuzzy, but it definitely wasn't as good as the beach. He closed his eyes tighter, trying to get back to that warm, happy place.

"Look, I think he's waking up. Buck? Buck, can you hear me?"

No, he was definitely awake. He moaned again, reaching up for his head, which was hurting an awful lot for reasons he didn't understand. Was he hungover? That'd explain a lot.

Wait, someone had asked him a question.

"Yeah," he said, voice fuzzy but solid. "Am I drunk?"

Someone laughed, sounded maybe like Chim, he did tend to laugh at him a lot. "You better not be. You're on the job, remember?"

Oh, right, that was right, he was at a fire, the ceiling collapsed, something had hit his head. He hadn't passed out right away, that was good. And he could think now, slowly, but it was coming back, so it probably wasn't a brain bleed.

Bleed.

Blood thinners.

Buck's eyes flew open and he tried to sit up but he was strapped down, and then several voices were yelling at him to lie down, take it easy, don't move, everything was okay.

"Blood thinners," he said, looking frantically into the faces of Chim, Hen, and Eddie. "I'm on blood thinners, I was hit on the head, I'm dying."

Eddie glared at him so intently that Buck shrunk back onto the board, that's what was happening, he was being carried down stairs on a bodyboard.

Wait.

Carrying.

Goddammit, everything was coming back so slowly and it was all so important.

"Sam, we were—"

"She's fine," Eddie cut him off. "Bobby and Watson, they're right behind us. And you are _not_ dying, do you hear me Evan Buckley?"

"Blood thinners…"

"We know," Hen said, and she was using her comforting voice, which was in fact comforting but also very scary that she thought he needed it. "We've called ahead, the CT is ready and waiting. We're almost down and then it's off to the hospital for you."

Buck started sucking in air, he couldn't breathe, and oh god he was dying, he was dying and he hadn't told Eddie he loved him, _fuck_—

"Deep breaths," Chim said. "You're okay, Buck. Deep breaths."

"Eddie—"

"I'm here," Eddie said, taking one of Buck's hands in both of his, and Buck squeezed, never letting go, he wouldn't ever be letting go, no sir.

"I love you," Buck said desperately. "Eddie, I'm dying, but I love you, you have to know."

"Uh, exactly how hard did he hit his head?" Chim asked.

"His helmet was on when we got here, it couldn't have been that hard," Hen said, sounding maybe like she was trying not to laugh. "Buck, you aren't dying. You're embarrassing yourself, but you aren't dying."

"You don't know that, though," Buck said, and Eddie hadn't said anything, and he was definitely dying, whether from the injury or the lack of reciprocation, he wasn't sure. "Eddie—"

"I heard you," Eddie said, uncharacteristically quietly. "Later, okay?"

"No, not okay!" Buck tried to sit up again and this time Eddie also had to grab the board, and he had the impression that he was nearly dropped, but wasn't. "I love you, and I love Christopher, and I want to kiss you again, and be part of your lives."

"Oh my god," Chim sighed. "This is—a Christmas to remember, for sure."

"Stop talking," Eddie said gently. "Dying declarations don't count, and you aren't dying, anyway."

Fresh air washed over Buck like a cool drink of water. He might have been overreacting, he realized. He was probably not dying. He should probably—_definitely_—shut up.

"Okay," he said quietly. "Sorry."

Eddie squeezed his hand, and that was when Buck realized they were still holding hands, and warmth rushed through him. "Nothing to be sorry for, just save it for when I know you'll remember."

"I could never forget this," Buck said earnestly, and both Hen and Chim groaned.

"Come on, into the ambulance you go."

Eddie's grip started to loosen, and Buck panicked. "No, wait, where're you going?"

"Just the front seat," Eddie reassured. "Someone's gotta drive this circus."

Buck relaxed slightly, letting his hands go. "Right. Okay. Sorry."

"You're good." Eddie patted his cheek, and Buck blushed. "See you soon."

"Right."

Buck was vaguely aware that Hen and Chim were staying quiet the ride over, and was grateful, as much as he could be. It felt like his brain was vibrating, and throbbing in time with his heartbeat, and he might be dying but if he wasn't then he'd have to kill himself because _what_ had he just _said_. Could he have _been_ more humiliating? Good god, if Eddie had been interested before, he wouldn't be now.

He kept his mouth shut as they wheeled him into the hospital, bypassing the ER entirely on the way to CT. He tried to focus on how he was probably dying because that was somehow less scary than thinking about Eddie, but then it had gotten hard to breathe again, and the radiology tech told him to take deep breaths and stay still, so he had. He let himself be wheeled into an ER room after, still not talking much, only responding to direct questions about what had happened. He wasn't sure where the rest of his team was, but Eddie appeared at his side the second the gurney was locked into place, asking the nurse about the results.

"I'm not qualified to answer," she said. "Someone will be in shortly to talk to you." Then she left, leaving Buck alone with Eddie. It was kind of funny, for the past however many hours that's all he'd wanted, a few minutes to talk, but now that it was here, he found himself praying for someone to walk through the door.

"How're you feeling?" Eddie asked, once again taking Buck's hand.

"Head hurts," Buck said, being careful with his words, so he didn't say anything else so monumentally stupid. Not that it wasn't too late, but at least he wouldn't dig himself further into the hole. "Everything's kind of—molasses, hard to think."

"Yeah, sounds like a concussion," Eddie replied. "Do you remember what you said, at the—the fire?"

Buck wondered if he should take the chance to say no, he didn't remember anything after fainting, but he couldn't lie for shit, especially to Eddie. "Yeah."

"And, uh." Eddie cleared his throat. "Did you mean it, or was that the brain injury talking?"

Buck swallowed. "Meant it."

Eddie let out a deep breath, and Buck tensed. "_Gracias a Dios_, I thought you were hallucinating, the adrenaline, I didn't—"

Chim, Hen, and Bobby spilled into the room, followed by a woman in a white coat holding a clipboard, and Buck had a mind to kick them all out, scream at them to go away so Eddie could finally finish his fucking _sentence_, but also he could be dying, and that was important, too.

"No brain bleed," the woman said, and Buck relaxed back into the bed. "I'm Dr. Harris and I'll be looking after you, but I thought I should lead with that, given the circumstances."

"Yeah, thank you, that's good, that's real good," Buck sighed. "Concussion?"

"Yessir, one medium-sized concussion with a side of migraine," Dr. Harris said. "We're going to keep you overnight, get a second CT in a few hours just to make sure, but you have nothing to be worried about." She looked around at the collection of firefighters and paramedics, and said, "Looks like you'll be in good hands. Any questions?"

"How's Sam?" Buck asked, and at the look of confusion, he continued, "We were bringing a woman down when I fainted, is she okay?"

"She's fine," Hen said, and it made sense that she'd know, and not the ER doctor, who probably hadn't ever heard of her. "We left her at the building, she was on the phone with her girlfriend last I saw."

Buck sighed in relief. "Good."

"I'm gonna let you rest," Dr. Harris said. "Don't hesitate to call a nurse if you need anything."

"Thanks." The doctor nodded and left. Buck closed his eyes and leaned back, suddenly exhausted. "Don't think I'm gonna be that entertaining, guys. You can get back to work, I'll check in after the test."

"Glad you're safe," Bobby said, squeezing Buck's leg. "Make sure to keep it that way."

"Yes, sir," Buck replied dutifully.

"Keep an eye on the time," Chim said, and jumped when Hen elbowed him. "Come on! You're in this for as much as I am."

"Not the time," Bobby said sternly. "Let him rest, like the doctor said. You can collect in the morning."

"Wha—" Then Buck remembered, the bet about when he and Eddie would get together, the one that apparently was costing someone quite a lot of money. "Guys. Seriously? I might be dying, and you want to make sure we kiss and make up before that happens?"

"You're not dying," Eddie snapped. "Stop saying that. The doctor said you weren't, so you aren't, so stop saying it."

"But it is still Christmas for another—" Chim checked his watch. "Seven minutes, so if you wanted to wait just a little longer…"

"That's my wife you're swindling there," Bobby said, dropping a wink at Buck. "Not that I'd push you into anything, but there is a weekend away in it for me if you hurry up."

"How much did you guys bet?" Buck exclaimed. "Why don't I get any of it? I'm the one who risked everything and still doesn't have an answer, you'd think that'd get me a cut of the profits—profits that might not even exist, because for _fuck's sake we still haven't talked._"

Bobby looked somewhat ashamed, and he ushered Chim and Hen out of the room without another word. Buck turned to Eddie.

"Well?"


	5. Finally

Eddie took a deep breath, and Buck tensed.

"I like you," Eddie said, and that wasn't exactly what Buck wanted to hear, but it was better than nothing. "Of course I do, you're my best friend, you're gorgeous, but I can't just think about me. I have a son—"

"Who I love," Buck interrupted, terrified, and he knew he should let Eddie talk, but he wasn't sure he could. "And, y'know, I think Chris likes me too, we get along, and—"

"Of course," Eddie said quickly. "No, it's not like that, he loves you. That's—kind of the thing, that he's already so close to you, and what if—what if things didn't work out, between us, and you left? He'd be heartbroken, and he's already been through so much. I can't—I'm sorry, Buck, I'm so sorry, but I can't do that to him, not again." Eddie squeezed his hand and let go, taking a step back, not meeting Buck's eyes.

"We don't have to tell him," Buck tried, but he'd already accepted it, or at least knew nothing he said was going to change anything. "We—we can take it slow."

"Buck," Eddie said, and he sounded so sad, and Buck thought his heart might be breaking.

"Please." Buck's voice was broken, he knew it, he was wrecked and it was obvious and embarrassing and humiliating and he couldn't stop. "You kissed me, remember?"

Eddie sighed. "I know. It was—fantastic, actually, I kind of wish I hadn't so I didn't know what I was missing, but—"

"No buts," Buck reached out for his hand, ended up brushing Eddie's elbow and nothing more, and god, it was a good thing he was hooked up to all sorts of monitors because he was positive his heart had stopped, only the room was silent except for the steady beep telling him he was, in fact, still alive. "Just—just for a second, okay, can you tell me? How you feel, really, and then I'll drop it, I promise, I just—I want to know."

"Buck. How is that going to help anything?"

"Because I'll know," and god, this was pathetic, but he needed _something_ to hold onto.

Eddie sighed again, so broken that it hurt to hear, and Buck wished he could take it back, but it was too late. "Yeah," he said softly. "Yeah, Buck, I like you. A lot. You're—fuck, this isn't helping, how would you hearing I love you make this any easier?"

"You love him?"

Buck, who still thought he might be dying, monitors aside, whirled to see Athena at the door, Christopher standing next to her, and the room spun with how fast he moved so he couldn't quite make out their expressions, and that was so unfair.

"Christopher!" Eddie exclaimed, going to his son. "Hey buddy, how're you doing?" He looked up at Athena. "What're you doing here?"

"Heard Buck was in the hospital," Christopher said, tilting his head, looking past his dad to Buck. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Chris, I'm fine," Buck said, trying to get up and being jerked back into bed by the leads and the IV and, ow. "I just hit my head a little, and they want to make sure nothing bad's gonna happen."

"Okay." Then, in the same tone of concern and curiosity but also like it was no big deal, he asked, "Do you love my dad, too?"

Buck froze. Eddie turned to glare daggers at him, and this was so messed up, and all his fault.

"I'm gonna leave you gentlemen to it," Athena said, and Buck had forgotten she was even there.

"Thanks for bringing him over," Buck said absentmindedly.

Athena waved him off and left.

"Well?" Christopher asked, and Buck didn't know what to say other than honesty, whether Eddie liked it or not. That's how it'd always been with Chris, and how it'd always be.

"Yeah, I do," Buck said, keeping his eyes on the kid and not Eddie. "Is that okay with you?"

Christopher laughed. "You're silly."

Eddie turned back to Christopher, and god, Buck wished he could see his face. "Buck is very silly, very _dumb_, and I want you to forget about all this, okay? It doesn't mean anything. Nothing's gonna change."

Buck knew why he said that, why he used those words, but fuck, it hurt.

"Why?" Christopher asked.

Silence stretched out, broken only by the steady beeps which assured Buck that, against all odds, his heart seemed to be working fine.

"It's complicated," Eddie said, and were those the only words he knew, did he not have a full vocabulary.

"No," Christopher countered. "You love each other. That's easy."

Eddie sighed, dropping his head, and Buck didn't say anything because he'd already done too much, but he was thinking pretty seriously about buying Chris a pony after all this.

"I should go before you kiss again," Christopher added.

Eddie touched Chris's arm, searching his face. "Would that be okay with you?"

"It'd be gross," Christopher said, and Buck let out a slightly hysterical laugh. He turned to Buck. "Just don't die like Mom."

That was like a punch to the gut, and how was this kid so strong, so much more resilient than he had any right to be? "Not gonna happen."

"Okay." Christopher looked back at his dad. "I'm gonna go now."

From what Buck could see, Eddie seemed just as shaken as he was. He pulled Chris into a hug, crutches clinking gently on the tile floor.

"You're amazing," Eddie whispered, but of course Buck could hear, he'd never been more invested in a conversation than he was in this one. "I love you so much, you know that, right?"

"Yeah. Love you too, Dad." Chris wiggled his way out of Eddie's grip. "Still going before you kiss again."

Eddie laughed, a little breathlessly. "Go stay with Bobby and the rest of them, I'll be out soon, okay?"

"Not too soon," Christopher said, and then he was gone, and Buck was on fire.

Buck thought about giving Eddie time to process, letting him start this new variation of their conversation, but he couldn't, he was too anxious and excited and terrified, and he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"Okay, so, we good now? Is that—Chris approves, so you can, y'know, kiss me, again, and yeah, if you said you loved me, that would make this a lot easier, better, everything good."

Eddie stood, turning to face Buck, a blush high on his face, dipping down his neck below his collar, and he was beautiful, and adorable, and fuck, Buck had it bad.

"Okay," Eddie said simply, and then somehow he was at Buck's side, leaning down, and his lips were on Buck's, and they were so soft, and Buck wasn't letting go this time. He wrapped an arm around Eddie's neck, crushing them together, and the sound Eddie made was criminal, illegal, so _fucking_ hot, and Buck had no choice but to lick into his mouth, explore every crevasse that was now _his_.

"_Madre de Dios_," Eddie breathed, breaking the kiss but staying close, learning his forehead on Buck's, and that was lovely, being so intimate with him. "Say it again."

"I love you," Buck said, floating, high on Eddie's words, Eddie's touch, maybe a little the concussion too but not mostly. "Your turn."

"_Te quiero_," Eddie sighed, brushing his lips against Buck's, who leaned up for more and didn't get it. "_Te quiero_, I love you, I love you."

"Thank god," Buck said, and pulled Eddie back down into a kiss.

—

Half a week later, and Buck was sprawled on top of Eddie, tongue laving over each and every bruise he'd sustained in the stairwell collapse, ones that Buck hadn't even known had existed until he'd gotten him naked, because Eddie had to be Mr. Macho and not let anyone know he was hurt. Buck had given him a thorough talking to, all while making sure he was too breathless to respond.

That had been a day and a half ago, when they'd first gotten to the cabin nestled in the San Bernardino Mountains, funded by the 118 after Buck and Eddie had presented a united front regarding the winnings of the bet. It was beautiful, there was actually snow for once, and Buck had wanted to take advantage, maybe have a snowball fight, get Eddie flushed from the cold because what a pretty picture that made, only Eddie had slammed him against the door the second they'd stepped inside, and that was the end of that.

Eddie whined as Buck paid particular attention to a bruise next to his hip, one that had decidedly _not_ been there before they'd arrived. Buck smiled against his skin, nipping at the teeth marks, and Eddie shifted beneath him, one hand curled in the blankets, the other digging into Buck's shoulder.

"Buck…"

"Mm?" Buck hummed, refusing to leave the spot until Eddie said what he wanted. He was surprisingly quiet in bed, Buck had discovered, but it was possible to change that, to wring out desperate pleas, if he played his cards just right.

Eddie canted his hips, and Buck dug his teeth in, and Eddie moaned.

"_Por favor_."

"_Por favor que_?" Buck asked, holding Eddie's hips down in anticipation of the jerking, the curses, because despite his horrific accent and how he only knows about five words, Eddie was apparently obsessed with Buck speaking Spanish, and it was so fun to watch him fall apart like this.

"Buck. _Evan_."

Buck smiled again, because if he was being called Evan, then Eddie was almost there. "_Por favor que_, Eddie?"

Eddie groaned, both hands now scrambling for purchase in Buck's hair, which he was seriously considering growing out, just a little, just enough to be easy to grab.

"Fuck me, please _por favor, lo necesito, mi amor, cógeme_, Buck…"

Buck's smile turned into a full-on predatory grin as he sat up, reaching for the lube on the bedside table.

"Thought you'd never ask."


End file.
